


Innocent is the Wrong Word

by WaywardGraves



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Feminization, Fingering, M/M, Prostitution, playboy!Credence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 11:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11057994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardGraves/pseuds/WaywardGraves
Summary: Each chapter is going to be an individual story centered around playboy bunny!Credence. They will all be separate from each other. Read the end notes warnings for each, because some will be darker than others.





	Innocent is the Wrong Word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writingramblr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/gifts).



“We are very pleased you decided to take us up on our offer, Mr. Graves.” The man in front of him said. His hair was greasy, and contrasted with the expensive suit he was wearing. He looked like a used car salesman raided an Armani shop. “I am sure you will not regret it.”

 

“I was very surprised by the phone call,” Graves said, “considering I had already turned your people down three times.”

 

“Well, we were surprised to hear of your specific, ah… _appetites_. But it’s no matter, once Mr. Hefner has his sights set on a prospective client there’s nothing he won’t do to make him happy.” The man shoots Percival a sickening smile and he can’t help but feel bad for the inhabitants of the Playboy Mansion for having to put up with creeps like him every day (although he’s calling the kettle black at the moment). The rooms are gorgeous with their ornate carvings in marble and gold. Yet, as he follows the man down the hallway the sounds of sex escape from behind the closed doors on either side. Graves is not a virgin by any means, nor could he ever be considered innocent, yet some of the noises he hears is almost enough to bring him to blush.

 

They enter the last door on the left and the man tells Percival to get comfortable and his “entertainment” would be in shortly. Graves removes his jacket, vest, and tie, hanging them up on the offered hooks next to the bathroom. He takes off his shoes and socks off, leaving them underneath. He turns back and sits on the bed, hands on his knees, and for the first time in a long time he feels nervous and he’s not sure why. Percival is almost about to start pacing when the door opens and his “entertainment” comes in.

 

Graves’ breath hitches, stuck in his throat. The figure before him is absolutely stunning. A young man, (he has to be a man right? The mansion wouldn’t allow anyone underage in would they?) Oh, but the delicate cut of his features, is something even Michelangelo couldn’t have created. His almond eyes are cat-like, and they fix Graves with an intensity that’s unnerving from someone who looks so innocent.

 

Well...innocent is the wrong word.

 

The boy is wearing bunny ears—barely better quality than those from a party supply store, but that’s not the point of them—and the white contrasts beautifully with the black hair that falls to his shoulders. He’s got a thin strap of black cloth around his throat with a little white bowtie. Graves sees he is wearing is a black thong with a little white tail attached to it, the fabric leaving nothing to the imagination. His marble-white legs are covered in fishnets that criss-cross down to a patent-leather pair of stilettos. Perhaps, the best word would be _appetizing_.

 

“Hello, Mr. Graves,” the boy says in a soft voice, “how may I be of service to you tonight?”

 

Graves’ throat has run dry. He’s always been the one in control of conversations but now he’s at a loss for words. He clears his throat, “What’s your name, my boy?”

 

“Credence, sir. You can call me Credence.” He says, walking forwards. He places his hands on the older man’s shoulders and straddles his hips. His cock is half-hard, and without shame he grinds into Graves’ groin, “Do you like that, Mr. Graves?”

 

Percival’s breaths are coming in short as heat pools in his belly. “Yes, my boy. I like that very much.” He can’t help the way his hips jolt at the sensations of the younger man’s ministrations as Credence sets a teasing rhythm that isn’t enough. His hands clench and unclench in the fabric of the comforter they’re sitting on.

 

“You know, this isn’t a strip club,” Credence says, pausing for a second to look at Graves’ face, “you can touch if you want.” To prove this Credence unbuttons the top of Percival’s shirt and dives in, licking and sucking at his collarbone. He lets out a grunt, just barely stopping a moan from escaping. One hand comes to the back of Credence’s neck while the other grips his waist tight. Credence licks around the shell of his ear, “Let me hear you Mr. Graves.” He says, as his hand squeezes Percival’s cock through his pants.

 

Graves let’s his head fall backwards and doesn’t try to suppress his groan this time. There’s no shame in this room between the two of them. With his eyes closed he doesn’t see when Credence brings a hand up, and is therefore caught off guard when he’s pushed flat to the bed. The boy wastes no time kissing down Graves’ chest as he undoes the rest of his buttons. Percival has just enough control to push himself up to his forearms and prop himself up to watch Credence slide onto his knees in front of him. The young man nuzzles into Graves’ cock, breathing in his scent and tracing his tongue along the outline through the fabric.

 

Percival is almost too out of it to catch what the boy is saying, but he hears a breathy moan and the words, “Oh, daddy…” and his cock tents his pants further. Graves sits up and grabs the boy by the nape of his neck and pulls his head up to meet his eyes.

 

“What did you just say?” He asks, his voice low.

 

“I-I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean any offense.” Credence stumbles out. Graves is perplexed at the new behavior, so far the boy seemed so sure of himself and now he looks like he’s wilting. Well he can’t have _that_ now, can he? Percival pulls the boy back into his lap and he devours those plush lips. His tongue pressing against the seam and is allowed access. He nibbles Credence’s lower lip between his teeth and the moan the boy lets out is nothing short of obscene.

 

Graves flips the two of them so he looms over the boy. He’s half straddling the younger man, one leg next to his hip, the other pressed into the fully hard cock beneath the skimpy underwear. Credence’s hips seem to move of their own accord as he grinds down into that knee, chasing his own pleasure. Graves’ hands bracket Credence’s head, he brings one up to push away the sweat-slicked hair that has fallen into the boy’s eyes, which are blown with lust.

 

Percival lets their eye contact linger as his hand comes down to rest on the boy’s cheek. Credence nuzzles into it slightly, looking all the more the rabbit he’s dressed up as. “Little one,” Graves says in a breathy whisper, “do you want this?”

 

“What do you mean?” Credence asks, a crease forming between his brows.

 

“Is this your first time?”

 

Credence snorts at the question, “No. Of course not.” When he catches the expression on Graves’ face he adds, “First time here. Not first time ever. The mansion saved me from a worse situation, I am grateful for all they do.” After another pause he says, “I’m clean if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 

“No, no dear boy, nothing of the sort. Just…” Graves sighs, “Credence you don’t have to talk big for me. You’re one of the most beautiful boys I have ever seen. If you love what you do then that’s a good thing, but if you don’t want this you can tell me. And I want complete honesty. You’ll get your money and a glowing response from me, but _I_ don’t want this if you don’t.”

 

Percival feels like he just gave a pump-up speech to his employees and he’s afraid Credence won’t think he’s serious, when the boy breaks down into tears. And Graves hates himself but he can feel himself harden at the sight, the boy is so beautiful like this. He already looks so fucked out and they haven’t even started yet. Percival starts stroking the boy from his fake, plush ears down his hair; petting him in a way he hopes is soothing.

 

When the young man finally gets himself under control he meets Graves’ eyes, “Complete honesty?” He asks and Percival nods for him to continue, “I don’t want this.” He says, like he’s confessing something he should never speak aloud. Graves gives a last curt nod and moves to pull away when thin fingers wrap around his wrist, “But I want you.”

 

Hardly believing he heard right Percival pauses and looks down at the fae-like creature beneath him, but he finds nothing but open honesty in the boy’s eyes. Already giving one corny speech for the night, he responds with a kiss that he hopes conveys the thanks and hope he feels at the boy’s trust. Credence reaches up, grabs Graves’ lapels, and rips them apart sending buttons flying in all directions. Uncaring about the loss of the expensive shirt, he just chucks the remaining fabric off the side of the bed. He grabs the slender hips and flips him over, and the younger man lets out a squeak at the sudden movement. Credence is so warm beneath him, he trails his fingers up and down the boy’s back, stopping to play with his little tail and just teasing the crack, not yet touching the hole he’s dying to sink into.

 

“Daddy, daddy please. Please fuck me, please I want to feel you.” Credence is practically incoherent under him.

 

Graves gives a kiss to his shoulder blades, “Daddy will be right back baby boy. I just got to go get lube.”

 

Credence whines as Percival starts to retreat. “No, daddy. I’m already prepped. _Please_ , just fuck me.”

 

He simply moves the thong out of the way and puts a finger between the boy’s cheeks and it slips in almost immediately. He’s able to fit two, then three, in a matter of seconds. “Fuck, baby,” he says, “do you always prep youself?”

 

“Well, most men just want to get to it. It’s better than having to worry about being dry.”

 

“Next time, I want to prepare you myself. I want to feel you open to me. I want you to be positively _dripping_ before we really begin, sweet boy.” Graves says, pumping his fingers. He knows he’s found that spot when Credence lets out a low, animalistic moan and his eyes fly open.

 

“Yes, daddy. Anything for you. Just don’t stop, oh please you can’t stop.” Credence is babbling.

 

Graves doesn’t waste time with taking off his pants, simply undoing his zipper and pulling out his cock. He strokes over it a few times with the slick hand that had been inside the boy a few seconds previous and Credence presses back with a cry at the loss. He wants to treat this delicate beauty right, wine and dine him, woo him, do it the proper way. But that can come later, right now he needs to be in that wet heat.

 

He presses the head in, his pace sure but not painful. Credence gasps at the intrusion and is grasping the sheets so tight Graves thinks they may tear. He tries to give the boy a moment to adjust but Credence is having none of it as he starts fucking himself on Graves impressive length.

 

“More daddy, please. I need more.” He’s begging.

 

Graves holds one hand firm on the young man’s back and he starts moving in and out, setting a steady pace. Credence keens, but it doesn’t stop his pleading. “Daddy, harder. I need it faster. I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow. I want to be so open from you that when I leave this room, everyone here can see what you did to me.” The boy is rocking his hips into the mattress below them, no doubt trying to find some friction on his still covered cock.

 

The thought of Credence leaving sends a cold chill down his back. He’s never been one to share his toys and he doesn’t want Credence to be touched by anyone else. Graves allows his primal self to take over, his hips thrust faster and there’s no way the boy is escaping without bruises. He reaches down and grabs the white ears and pulls them up. The boy lets out a gasp, pain and pleasure mingling together as he’s arched back towards the older man.

 

Graves leans forward, placing his lips to Credence’s ear, “You’re mine, little one. _Mine_ , and no one else's. I am the only one who gets to touch you, I am the only one who gets to fuck you. You belong to me.” He says, giving a little tug on the boy’s ears to emphasize his point.

 

“Yes, daddy. Yours, only yours. Please, let me be yours.”

 

Without pausing his thrusts Graves takes both ears in one hand and grabs around Credence’s throat with the other, he turns the boy’s head and captures those sinful lips in bruising kiss. The young man whines into Percival’s mouth and he knows the black panties are ruined. The thought of Credence coming, untouched because of him, is enough to send him over the edge, spilling into the younger man. 

 

They both collapse on the bed, breathing heavily. Graves goes soft and slips out of Credence, the boy whimpers but remains still, too blissed out to move. Percival maneuvers them so he’s holding tight to him, the young man’s head tucked into his shoulder.

 

“Did you mean it?” Comes the question barely above a whisper, “When you said you wanted me to be yours?”

 

Graves tilts the boy’s chin up so they meet each other’s eyes. “Yes, if you’ll have me. It’s up to you, Credence.”

 

He gives the older man a watery smile, “I’d like that very much.”

 

Graves kisses him, slow and languid, he doesn’t think he’ll ever have enough of the boy. “So would I.” He says, tucking his head back into the crook of his neck. He runs his fingers up and down his back and into the dark hair, toying with the ears—now askew, but still perched atop his head. “I think we should keep the outfit though.” Credence gives a small chuckle before he falls asleep, safe and content in his savior’s arms. Percival follows shortly after.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took so long sozi, I hope it lives up to your expectations. <3
> 
> (tags: prostitution, feminization, daddy kink, fluff.)


End file.
